Her fingers danced over his hand. “They aren’t. Made here, that is,” she said. “I know several come from a few different Asian countries. Not sure about all of them, though.”
“Are we thinking drugs?” Kendall asked. “As in they’re all associated with importing them into the country and something happened leading to Flannery, Fisher, and Roger being murdered?”
“Weshouldn’t be thinking about any of these things,” Monk said. “Youshould be, I don’t know, focusing on schoolwork or boys or girls or what nation you want to take over when you’re an adult.”
Kendall snorted. “I told you, I’ve already tested out of most of the eleventh-grade classes. I think I can take a break for a few days. Not into boys or girls, yet, but figure I’ll get there eventually. And if I ever take over a country, I’ll do it from the background, and no one will ever know who’s really running the show.”
Dulcie laughed; so did Leo. Monk shook his head, and Helia muttered, “Terrifying.”
“Back to the question, are we thinking they might all be involved in some sort of drug trade?” she asked.
“It’s not out of the realm of possibility,” Leo said. “But we don’t have enough info yet. Trish Peterson needs looking into, and I want to see what crops up with Kurt in the next few days. Flannery’s death was violent, but Fisher’s was brutal. It takes a certain kind of someone to do what was done to either, but especially Fisher.”
Kendall bobbed her head in thought. “Okay, fair. What about the drugs? Has HICC tested them yet?”
Monk let his head fall back, and he huffed. “Can someone please tell me why we’re letting a twelve-year-old run this conversation?”
A beat passed, then Dulcie spoke. “Because she’s probably smarter than we are. I mean, we have her on life experience, but…”
“And you’re trying to gain my trust so I’ll let you help find my mom,” Kendall said. He lifted his head. She grinned at him. “I know what you’re doing and, well, I appreciate the effort. No one’s ever really cared whether I trust them or not. It’s a little awkward, but in the kind of way a new sweater is awkward—it’s uncomfortable because it’s new and I’m not sure how it’s going to fit or if I like it or if I do like it, whether it will change over time and become my favorite or one I hate. But I appreciate you giving me the sweater.”
He stared at her, then snorted a quiet laugh. “That is a weird analogy, but I can go with that. Carry on, then.”
Her grin turned into a smile, something he’d seen more and more of as the day had gone on. He suspected her nature leaned toward being optimistic and easygoing, but life had never given her the chance, or reason, to be either.
“So, the drugs, Leo?” she asked again.
“A custom mix of cocaine, GBL, and amphetamines.”
Dulcie let out a low whistle, and Kendall’s eyes grew big as she muttered a “Holy shit.”
“I’m not surprised,” Monk growled.
“Call me naive or whatever, but what does that mean?” Helia asked.
“It means Roger, or someone he knows, created a drug cocktail that lowers pain thresholds, reduces inhibitions, and jacks up sexual need,” he answered. Not quite what Roger had sneaked into his system all those years ago, but probably not far off. “How are you going to get rid of it?”
“HICC has contacts at the DEA. We’re going to hand it over. It will be anonymous for now, but if it’s linked to anything bigger, we can’t guarantee it stays that way.”
“I don’t care about Roger’s reputation, but I do care about Bacco’s because a lot of people rely on the winery for work,” he said. “If it comes to that, to needing to go public for whatever reason, we’ll deal with it, though.”
A contemplative pall fell over the room and phone. Finally, Helia spoke. “What now?”
“Now, you all stay safe and keep your eyes and ears open. We’ll look into Trish?—”
“It’s not Trish,” Helia interjected. Monk understood she didn’t want to think that someone she’d been so close with could be involved in what they were thinking, but it had to be done.
“If nothing comes up then no harm, no foul,” Leo said, easily. “We’ll also keep an eye on the Flannery and Fisher investigations. I’m going to dig deeper into Fisher, too. Hey, Kendall?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think you’d recognize the two voices from the day Roger died if you heard them again?”
“Yes,” she answered without missing a beat.
“Good. Don’t let that become public knowledge, but I’ll see if I can get you some voice clips of a few players.”
“Okay,” she said, sounding way more excited than she should. “Can I get your number? Then I can text you mine.”
